Hanging On
by epic.is.what.i.aim.for
Summary: Ryan's family is falling apart and he feels alone in the fight to keep it together. When he attempts suicide, Sharpay is there to catch his fall. The siblings make a great team but can she convince her brother it's worth the fight?
1. Preview

**I wrote this I-Don't-Know-How-Many years ago. I wasn't going to post it but after reading _sullenxgirl_'s comments about "no pressure" I thought I might as well post it and see what the response is. I'm undecided whether I will write more or not. If you really like it so far, review and let me know why. Maybe you can convince me to continue it. ;D**

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Ryan Evans' tale begins in a dark, cold room. His family is desperate, gasping for air—barely keeping their heads above the water. As he reaches out, tries to pull them to safety, they float further away. Stranded in a deep blue ocean, Ryan searches for a lifesaver—anything he can get his hands on. Hanging above him he finds only large shattered pieces of glass and in a final attempt of survival he grabs one. His palms burn as the sharp edge slices his skin. Ignoring the pain, his grip tightens as he begins to pull himself up. Slowly, he pulls his entire body up and wraps it around the glass.

He feels safe for a moment. He closes his eyes and fills his lungs with the sea air. A wave crashes below. Ryan glances down. Pain shoots up through him and it's no longer ignorable.

Letting go with one hand, he examines the wound on the other. Suddenly, he slips. But instead of dropping straight in, he allows himself to slide down the glass. His screams stop short when he hits the water.

Slipping below the surface, Ryan can't help but suck in the water; it only weighs him down. Sinking to the bottom, he hits the floor hard but feels nothing.

The salt water has already begun to heal his wounds and Ryan starts to think: _Maybe the water's not so bad._

This is the Evans' household.

As the youngest child—a son of about sixteen—enters the dining room, a fist hits the table for the fifth time that week. It belongs to Mr. Evans.

"Your grades are going down—NOT up! How hard is it to STAY at the top of your class?" Ryan Evans, to which the pound was directed, slumped his shoulders in a dejected fashion. But there was nothing he could say.

If he apologized, Mr. Evans would only continue his rampage. If he made any kind of defense, Mr. Evans would accuse him of lying and intensify the harsh discipline Ryan was bound to receive.


	2. Chapter 1: Part 2

**Thanks goes to eveyone who favorited and put this story on alert because it really inspired to keep it going. ****And I'd like to give a shout-out to my besties: _UnwrittenTale and sullenxgirl _(aka my HSM buddies) Hope you all enjoy this update! **

**Reviews would be nice. :D**

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So he said nothing.

He lifted his cold, lonely blue eyes to meet his father's harsh, angry ones. Mr. Evans shook his head.

"I'm so disappointed in you," he said, quieter now. Ryan was ashamed and he was lost as to how he could satisfy his father's high demands. He turned slowly and walked out of the kitchen and into the living room to grab his schoolbag. He was late already.

Sharpay had left 15 minutes earlier, so Ryan had no ride. He would have to walk which would only increase his tardiness. He ran out the front door, not bothering to lock it behind.

Running, running—he kept running. He kept putting distance between himself and that house: the one he was supposed to call home.

Running, running—he kept running, but he was going nowhere. His family was in danger again. Sharpay was ahead of him, calling his name, screaming for his help.

But as he whipped around, he heard his parents behind him; they begging for mercy. He was their only savior and needed him. They were asking him to choose but it was so unfair.

He reached out. He kept moving, kept running. He was sweating now and panting like a dog. He had to help them—he could do it. He could save them all!

Ryan had to look down—that was when he saw it. He was going nowhere because he was on a treadmill: a moving sidewalk that only circulated the same piece of rubber again and again. It was keeping him in the same spot.

He couldn't save anyone.

Ryan couldn't even save himself.

Suddenly, he found himself standing alone in front of East High: the place he called school. He stood quietly in the solace.

Ryan Evans made a decision that day. He never entered that building. He didn't go to school.

In fact the next time anyone saw him, Ryan was standing on a bridge. And he was about to jump.


	3. Chapter 2: Part 1

**Longest chapter yet! For this story anyway. I hope you all enjoy.**

**Have a great weekend! xD**

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The wind was loud in Ryan's ears. He couldn't hear anything else.

On the other hand, he could see the entire city from his standing point. The view was beautiful but meaningless—like his own life. From what a stranger could see, Ryan Evans was privileged, even spoiled. From what he could see, material possessions meant nothing—less than nothing.

Love would've meant something. He moved a centimeter forward on the railing.

Respect would've meant something.

Encouragement would've meant something.

Belonging would've meant … everything.

And then he was at the edge. The tips of his shoes were hanging above the rippling water below. Ryan swayed softly in the strong breeze.

A tear leaked out but the wind dried it before he could taste the salty liquid on his tongue, in his mouth. And he realized he was thirsty.

His mouth was dry, his lips parched. He was so thirsty it hurt. He licked them, trying to soothe the dry skin. It stung.

Ryan had been standing on the bridge for hours. School was probably letting out now. He needed to just do it before someone saw him, before someone tried to stop. And he was thirsty.

And the water looked refreshing. It looked good enough to drink.

And he was so thirsty. He could drink it all. He could jump in and just let it all in. It would feel good.

He wouldn't be thirsty anymore. It wouldn't hurt—it wouldn't sting anymore. Something was breaking his concentration. Something far away: he could hear it.

"Ryan! What are you doing up there? You could fall!" Sharpay's frantic voice was behind him. His sister: what was she doing there? How long had she been standing behind him?

"Um," Ryan started, his voice shaky, "I … I … I was just looking at the horizon." She stepped closer but he didn't dare turn around to look. He was afraid he might slip. That wasn't how he planned to go.

He was going to jump. But Sharpay had to leave first. He couldn't do while she was watching—especially when she was close enough to grab him.

"Look Shar, I'm trying to enjoy this—alone. Can you just go?" She was close enough to reach him now. She reached up and softly rested a hand on his ankle. He flinched, squeezing his eyes shut.

A few more tear leaked out. It hurt to be touched—why did she do that?

"Ryan, you weren't at school today. I saw Ms. Darbus in the hallway; she told me." She paused and her concern electrocuted Ryan. He bit his tongue. "Why—why weren't you in school today?"

"Look Shar," he twisted his head, looking down sharply, "I can do whatever I want. My grades are already going down, what does it matter if I skip one day? Just leave me alone!" She let go.

A bird trapped in a cage, screaming to be let free. Sharpay opened the door and let it be free. She watched it fly away to a better place. Its colorful wings were flapping gracefully in the sky. The wind was a current, guiding the bird to its happy place.

"I won't tell Mom and Dad, okay?" She backed up slowly, not wanting to take her eyes off Ryan. Something was wrong, she could feel it. So why was she willing to leave him?

Nothing felt wrong yesterday. Had it been there all along? Why had she never seen it before?

She turned around and headed toward her parked convertible. Her heels clicked with each step she took away from her brother.

Something wasn't right.

She stopped in her tracks. There was the car—in front of her. She turned back. Where was Ryan?


	4. Chapter 2: Part 2

**Chapter 2: Part 2**

_In seconds she had kicked off her four inch heels and was running full speed. She followed her brother into the water in an attempt to save the life he wanted to throw away._

-R&R-

The next thing Ryan knew: he was in a hospital bed. There was an IV in his arm and wires attached to his chest. There was a tube down his throat. He observed all this but felt nothing.

He needed to cough (or throw up) and he was **still** thristy. Maybe refreshing liquid would solve both issues. The water would wet his dry throat and make his stomach queasy enough to cough it all up.

Water ... He suddenly remembered how he got there.

Suicide ... He'd tried to kill himself. He'd tried to take his own life. He hadn't succeeded. And now he was stuck in a hospital, missing more school than he could afford to.

What would Dad say about his grades now? Where were his parents? Had they been sitting at his bedside from the moment they got the call?

Ryan took in his surroundings. His room was completely empty, minus the machines humming and beeping on either side. He wanted to panic, but to feel something would be to admit the reality of the situation.

Instead he closed his bloodshot eyes and lay back down.

Just moments later he heard the door to his room open. Soft footsteps padded toward him. He listened ever intently as the visitor moved around the room. He was determined not to let them know he had awakened from his comatose state.

Then she spoke. "Ryan ... if you can hear me, I want you to know I'd miss you. If you were really gone, I would miss you so much." She sighed and intertwined her warm hand with his.

"You're the best brother anyone could ask for. I just wish you could see that. I wish ... I just wish I would've told you sooner." An emotion pulsed through him, one he hadn't felt in a long time. He squeezed her hand.

Sharpay gasped as Ryan's eyes fluttered open. He'd been asleep for almost twenty-four hours straight.

"Oh my God! Nurse, nurse!" she yelled, jumping up from her seat. He pulled her hand. He was unable to speak with the tube still down his windpipe, but he wanted her to stop.

She turned back and he shook his head softly. He was asking her to share a moment alone: let the nurse come when she was really needed.


End file.
